


Only You

by Luka (Lukaheim)



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Female Peter Parker, Genderbending, M/M, Rule 63, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Sex, girl!Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukaheim/pseuds/Luka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Extraordinary.” He breathes right over Peter’s neck and her skin prickles, his breath pleasantly warm against her, but they are both too enamored with the image in front of them.</p>
<p>They share an intimate look, glasses sparkling in the dark, and they both know this is just the start of something great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own Spider-man, this is just for my own amusement.
> 
> I felt like making a female Peter Parker because hey that's me; always loving to screw up the gender of the character. 
> 
> It's fun guys. You should try it.

_Only you can be the aching in my heart,_

_My enemy, the only animal I couldn't fight,_

_You hold me in the dark when storms arrive,_

_Only you_

 

~Only You by Ellie Goulding

 

Peter knew that her first mistake was running off to Oscorp. To pull the stupid stint to see what the hell her father was exactly hiding.

 

The second was ever speaking up.

 

How she explained the way the woman with Parkinson’s could heal herself with cross species genetics, by putting a Zebra fish’s DNA in her. Everyone’s eyes fell onto her, but she ignored their glances, only looking at him. He looked at her with a fascinated interest; something no one else has truly done before, has been able to do before, and it feels as if a piece of her wants to get closer.

 

_So I guess this is why I’m currently standing outside his house, staring at the door._

 

She’s gotten a better grasp of her powers, after she totaled the bathroom and managed to break everything but the shower. Or managing to jump at literally every small sound.

 

_So just raise your hand and…. Knock._

 

 

The hand she once called friend refused to do so.

 

_Knock damn it!_

 

It seems her body finally grew a pair, and a short knock on the door had her waiting for a couple of seconds before a familiar face greeted her. He doesn’t seem to recognize her and she tries to reason before her mind throws herself out the window and flees like a spider from a large foot.

 

"Doctor Connors, I, uh, you don’t remember me. I-"

 

"The intern from the other day." A small smile greets his face, and Peter’s somehow glad. Or perhaps the better word is relieved he didn’t think she was some crazy and didn’t call the police on her for trespassing and stalking. But it seems to leave quickly. "I’m sure you’re very nice young woman, but this is a home. I ask you to make an appointment with my office." He goes to close the door on her, but she blurts out her last resort.

 

"I’m Richard Parker’s daughter."

 

Peter knows that it’ll work, because this is the very man who worked with her father. Who had never even bothered to say a word to her after her father and mother died in the plane crash?

 

_I swear to god if am about to be arrested..._

 

Thankfully, she remains free from cuffs, and that same curiosity from the labs is back, mixed what she hopes isn’t dread. She didn’t come all this way to get another door shut on her face. He walks forward, still staring at her, analyzing, and Peter lets out a nervous breath.

 

"Peter?"

 

He says nothing more and invites her inside.

 

_Whoa, nice place. This beats out living in my place._

 

It’s all white walls and a nice wood, and the first place he ends up taking her is the kitchen.

 

_Not like he was going to drag me to the bedroom. Wait, what the hell!? Enough brain! This is actually serious!_

 

The doctor starts to pour coffee and he speaks, dragging her away from her teenage, hormonal addled brain that was desperately in need of a brain scan.

 

"I’m afraid I can’t help you much. I don’t know why the left or where they were going." He turns away, the container knocking over the ceramic mug and instinct has her jolting over, reaching for the cup and not spilling a drop.

 

He turns and looks at her and another awkward smile graces her lips.

 

"Good reflexes." Peter knows that this spidey-sense crap needs to stop, and she murmurs a thanks as she takes a small sip of the coffee.

 

"I read your book."

 

Peter speaks to him about it, how it truly amazes her and the idea of cross-species genetics. He then goes on about her father and him, how they were teased about their theories, and she can’t help but _absorb_ it all in, take every little sound that spills from his lips. She enjoyed the way his whole attitude changed, how Dr. Connors seemed delighted to speak about the spiders but is sad to say that her father’s work was lost, and he apologizes about how he was angry, that he stayed away from her and her family.

 

"I’m truly sorry."

 

A pregnant silence fills the air, and Peter looks around, knowing full well this was a thing that he probably doesn’t tell everybody, and she tries to gently change the subject.

 

"Say…Say it worked. Say you got it to work. Like, how much would the foreign species take over?"

 

An intrigued look passes over the doctor’s face, and she bites her lip, eyes alight and wanting to know.

 

"It’s hard to say, considering no subject survived. The problem was always the-"

 

…decay rate algorithm."

 

_It’s time to show him the formula._

 

He invites her to the Tower.

* * *

 

_I fucked up really badly._

 

She knew if Aunt May ever heard that word leaving her mouth, Aunt May would be smacking her with the ever almighty dishtowel till she was red from it.

 

_It was stupid. So stupid. And all because once again, Flash._

 

Well at least the basketball coach put in a good token for her.

 

But then Uncle Ben gave her a nice tongue lashing, and a good dose of humiliation in front of Gwen, the one person who was smarter than her, who she actually wanted to be friends with. So now she has to pick up Aunt May at nine, after the work with Doctor Connors.

 

So apparently her uncle is now a pathological liar and she still had four hours to get to the tower.

 

_This is wrapping up to be a horrible day._

 

Peter skates off until she nails every trick in the book, and then some.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doctor Connors shows her around the lab and she wants to spin around; it feels like someone just dumped her into _freaking candy land_ with all the possible equipment around. Dr. Connors talks so casually about it she seriously wants to jump around like a little girl, but manages to contain herself and keeps up an ‘adult like’ attitude since they are surrounded by others doing their paid job.

 

He takes her to a dark room lit up by one of those computer graphic things that goes from the floor up and apparently you can touch and interact with it.

 

_This is too freaking sweet._

 

"We’re trying to transfer it into our host subject: Freddy, the three-legged mouse. Enter the algorithm now."

 

Peter’s hand is still placing the information in when her phone rings loudly and she groans quietly in annoyance. It’s Uncle Ben. It seems the good doctor misses nothing and asks if she needs to take the call, but she waves it off, blocking the call.

 

_I need to do this._

 

A female robotic voice speaks over head as the two of them power up the system.

 

She gathers the copy of the strand, and drags it around to him.

 

"Check."

 

Their hands touch as he removes the strand, and something inside of her sparks. Peter feels exhilarated, more than she’s ever been before.

 

_"Beginning trials. Pending. Pending."_

She growls in irritation when the limb almost grows back but the mouse dies before it can fully grow to its entire size. The screen flashes red in failure, as if to rudely announce that she didn’t pass. It was almost as bad as being in her old Government class when nobody knew how to do any of the work.

 

"Come on. Come on. Come on."

　

_"Pending. Failed."_

_"Pending. Failed."_

_"Pending. Failed."_

_"Pending. Failed. Subject deceased."_

She keeps avidly watching, changing it, even as Doctor Connors turns away in frustration and she was determined to get it right.

 

_"Pending. Peptide algorithm accepted."_

 

_"Regrowth complete."_

 

"Hey!" She stares in amazed shock and taps her hand against his shoulder. The woman’s voice start to list off the vitals, and they’ve done it.

_"Limb regeneration successful."_

"Extraordinary." He breathes right over Peter’s neck and her skin prickles, his breath pleasantly warm against her, but they are both too enamored with the image in front of them. She’s too flabbergasted to speak, a smile forming on her face. She feels Doctor Connors’ hand on her shoulder, and all he says is thank you.

 

They share an intimate look, glasses sparkling in the dark, and they both know this is just the start of something great.

* * *

 

The happy mood is ruined when she glides up to the house, seeing Uncle Ben with his arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his face.

 

It turns into one of the worse fights she’s ever had; leaving with the shocked couple behind her and a completely shattered window. Peter feels like hell was chasing behind her when she left.

 

She’s angry and keeps walking until she finds herself in the bad side of town in a shitty convenient store called Forest Hills Market, trying to deal with a large, rude man called T-Bone, because all she was missing was two pennies. Like it would cause the store to go out of business.

 

_You have got to be kidding me, I mean seriously!_

 

Peter tenses when a blonde guy in sunglasses, at night, presses himself against her, placing the beer on the counter. The message is clear. _Move._ She grabs her two dollars and is about to high tail out of there when a crash followed by the sounds of things falling over greets her ears.

 

"Really?!" She turns to see the man taking money from the cash register and he stops when he sees her, only to toss her the milk. He bolts out of there and she follows the same advice.

 

_It’s not my problem. It’s not my policy._

 

**BANG**

 

"What the-"

* * *

 

Uncle Ben is dead.

 

Peter briefly wonders if heartbreak can cause one to simply die.

 

Or how much of this new power can withstand a high enough fall.

 

She hears Aunt May cries herself into exhaustion every night on the couch, too upset to sleep in the bed she shared for thirty seven years with now a dead man. Peter doesn’t go to the tower. There isn’t any more of that fluttery feel when she thinks of him. She doesn’t want to say _his_ name, because apart of herself is blaming him for Uncle Ben dying. That if he would have refused her from the start none of this would have happened.

 

_But it’s all my fault._

 

It’s cloudy out, and the school has given her time off from the tragic event to mourn, call family, not that there aren’t many left, and other nonsense bullshit they fed over the phone. She’s so lost in thought she doesn’t realize that she’s on the street where Doctor Connor lives when a soft voice calls out to her.

 

"Peter?"

 

Her head jerks up and there he is, Doctor Connors, beside his car. Her throat shrinks, goes up in smoke like a used cigarette.

 

"I… I heard about your Uncle Ben. Peter, I am so sorry." His voice is quiet, calming like one does to a cornered animal. He steps forward, his hand reaching towards her shoulder in a comforting way, and she doesn’t move. Peter wants to tell him so bad, her lips ready to scream, simply pour out everything that happened, and she flinches when she feels the doctor wipe the tears away from her cheeks with a calloused thumb.

 

_It’s all my fault!_

 

Her mouth moves for her.

 

"The-the man. He was there at the supermarket. I let him get away. I-I didn’t say anything, I just let the son of a bitch go, and oh god, there was this gun shot  I heard and there was so much blood." Her voice climbs hysterically, sobbing as more tears pouring down her face and he pulls her into his grasp, hand in her hair and Peter’s head buried into his chest, tears dripping onto his shirt.

 

"I didn’t get to say good bye!"

 

She howls heartbroken.

 

Peter feels her body being directed into the house, and onto the couch and she feels relived that he doesn’t say anything else as she cries into him.

 

Peter later assumes she cried herself asleep, because when she peels her aching eyes open, she’s laying down on the couch still, but now curled into doc’s stomach. The room is dark, lit by a small lamp, and she hears the scratching noise of a pen against paper. Then there’s the harsh  _pitter-patter_  of rain on the roof and she blearily looks out the window to see rain pouring outside, rain streaking down the glass.

 

_Aunt May is going to be worried._

 

Peter shifts slightly, trying to silently tell the doc she was awake.

 

"What, what time is it."

 

Her voice is slightly scratchy, most likely from the earlier crying session.

 

"Almost eight. Your aunt called and I told her that you were fine, staying with Gwen and that you left your cellphone here." Her mind feels too tired for any talking, but she knew Aunt May would be flipping out if she found out she was spending the night with some man that was twice her age, let alone that they are, or at least were, a family friend.

 

"Thanks." Peter didn’t know what else to say, and her muscles were too tired to move but she forces herself off of him, knowing that she probably went a little too far earlier in her grief.

 

_I passed out in his lap bawling like a baby for Christ’s sake!_

 

"It was no issue. But your welcome."

 

For once there isn’t an awkward silence, only the sound of him filling out paper work. She feels gross, face dry and icky from where the tears flowed, and she’s pretty sure that she doesn’t smell the most amazing after walking around all day in a city.

 

"Can I shower? I, uh, mean if it’s not a problem, I can just-"

 

His light chuckles shuts her up.

 

"Down the hall, to the left, second door. You won’t miss it."

 

Peter graces him with another awkward smile and bolts off in the direction he told her. The rain is getting louder, or closer because the sound of thunder rumbles in the distance. Finding the door handle, she jiggles it open, hissing when she flips the light on that burns her eyes. Much like the rest of the house, it’s modern and clean. Not to mention big, unlike her tiny, little bathroom where everything was all clustered tightly together where if you if you take a large step, you've covered pretty much the entire area.

 

The water is amazingly hot against her skin, soaking her hair as she tilts her head under the spray. The shower is _perfect_ ; the nozzle one of those fancy heads that you can change to about twenty different spray settings. There wasn’t a variety of choices of washing materials, so Peter sets with a nice bar of soap. Her mind drifts to the man barely even room away as she lathers her skin.

 

_Why? Why would he do this? It can't be what I think it is. No it can be. Don’t be stupid, you sound like one of those pathetic girls drooling over older guys. Geese, Doc worked with Dad for cryin’ out loud!_

 

While having an internal crisis, the last of the suds are washed away, swirling away down the drain, a crack of lighning followed by a loud, ear shattering  _boom_ shakes the whole house and the power goes out, encasing Peter in darkness.

 

"Shit!"

 

Banging her knee against the tile, most likely causing a bruise, it goes pitch black in the bathroom and even with the newfound spidey-senses she can’t tell where a single thing is, especially with water still spraying her in the face. Peter fumbles with the handle for a second, and then briefly struggles with a shower curtain and nearly falls onto her face.

 

_Towel. I need a towel._

 

Peter blindly searches the wall for something fuzzy and when she begins to think there isn’t one, because _I am not going to strut out naked_ , and  _thank Jesus_  screams in her head as her fist grabs hold of the towel and quickly envelops her body in a nice layer of fuzzy warmth. She quietly opens the door, hoping that the good doctor would see her, but honestly where was she going to get clothes?  It was a valiant effort to try, and Peter nearly screams out of her skin as Connor’s voice spooks her from behind.

 

"Peter. As you can tell the power has gone- _oh_."

 

She’s pretty sure that she’s blushing six different ways, and is now thankful for the lack of light. Peter refuses to look up at him, arms as tightly as possible over the top of the warm towel. His warm, calloused softly takes hold of her chin, forcing her to look up, and he’s pushed her lightly until her back reaches the wall.

 

There’s that damn look in his eyes again, and now that fascinated look is mixed with something akin to desire.

 

_It’s react or don’t react. Choose one, Parker!_

 

Peter leaned up, and brushed her lips against his, short enough to barely be called a kiss. She was trembling, eyes tightly closed, scared that rejection might happen, and her worries were instantly gone when he responded with a sweet kiss of his own.

 

He pushes their bodies together, Peter’s arms trapped between them but she doesn’t care. The moment it too amazing, too right, and the kisses are warm, welcoming; and they were better of what she thought they were ever going to be. His hand trails down to the soft curve of Peter’s neck a she sighs into in as he traces an invisible pattern only know to him. But it’s not enough for her.

 

"More, just move-" He cuts Peter’s impatient rambling by biting on her neck sharply, as a reminder, and a short scream bursts from her throat. Peter wraps her arms around his neck, and she inhales sharply as the cold air chills her, water droplets freezing against her skin as the towel falls between them.

 

"Exquisite." He breathes against her skin and it feels amazing. Peter yanks him forward, slamming their mouths together, and he molds their lips till they both feel as one.

 

It’s nothing like the simple, fumbling kisses she’s shared with other boys. No this is from a man, who knew exactly what he was doing, and the hot ways their mouths’ were clashing together, this was definitely not a kiss from some high school boy. Something inside of her feels good _._ Amazingly so. But she isn’t going to swoon and put flowery words in it, how electricity coursed through her veins, fireworks exploding. It simply just felt damn good, and Peter wanted more of it and _wanted it now._

 

_I’m not going to sit back and enjoy the show. I am going to be the act._

 

Peter grabs his hand, only hand, and places it against her heart, right on top of her breast. His hand is warm, almost scalding against her skin, the calloused skin feels rough and when it slides down, to simply go around and tease, Peter wants to let the scream rip out of her throat. Her hand is still on Connor’s shoulder, nails digging in sharply as his hand slides between them, rubbing her slick insides, and she arches harshly because it _stings_ but it gives so much more feel; more excitement. That it’s real.

 

"Doc, c’mon. I’m not gonna break." Peter pants harshly against his lips. She has to urge him on, fearful something is going to ruin it when this man in front of her is tearing away the last bit of her innocence from her.

 

"Curt. Please Peter, I call you by your first name, it’s only right that you can too." The words murmured against her skin float into the air between them, and Peter quickly nods her head, gasping quietly as the doctor, no, _Curt_ lowers his mouth and begins to map out her chest. The water is chilled against her skin, and a skilled tongue traces up her body, lapping the water up with it, and he traces a burning trail over the curve of her breast. Peter groans softly, pushing her chest forward, trying to get more, and those quiet moans grow when he wraps his mouth around the pert nipple. His teeth are sharp, and Peter releases her hand from his shoulder only to wrap her hand into the blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

 

"Oh god, Curt!" Peter feels her body slowly become accustomed to him, his touch, and spreads her legs wider, making more room to push his whole body against her. That good feeling is building up inside of her and her hips keep twitching against him, looking for more.

 

_Fuck! Why didn’t I try this sooner?!_

 

She bites her lip, bruising it, but not enough to bleed. Peter watches in aroused amazement and Curt lightly scrapes his teeth underneath the swell of her breast, then clamping down onto the soft skin there. It was enough to drive her mad.

 

"Let’s see what makes you squirm, Peter." His breath is hot, and she can feel every word spoken against her skin; erotic in its own way. She watches as he head slowly goes down, tongue mapping, until he’s on his knees in front of her.

 

_Oh. My. God._

 

Peter can balance extremely well, once again _thank you spider_ , and she rests her left leg on his shoulder, and Peter can visibly see the trembles her leg is doing. Their eyes briefly meet in the dark, and the connection is lost when Peter throws her head back gasping, the feeling of him teasing and stroking her every which has her nerves alight of fire. Then he does this _thing_ with his tongue, twisting and turning it against her, and she gasps for it felt so good, nothing like she has ever done before.

 

　

She can't tell how much time passes in that dark hall, Curt inbetween her lithe legs, pleasure permiating through her body, but Peter doesn't care.

 

_This is all that matters._


End file.
